


IT IS POLITE TO KNOCK

by SandrC



Series: Eldritch-tober 2020 [8]
Category: Dungeons and Daddies (Podcast)
Genre: At the Mountains of Dadness - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Spoilers for the end of ATMOD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26891146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandrC/pseuds/SandrC
Summary: "IT’S MR. BLUEBOTTLE AND HE’S BROUGHT YOU A CAKE""MR. SPIDER DOESN'T LIKE IT."(Grab a chimney broom and knock the cobwebs from your veins.)
Series: Eldritch-tober 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950820
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	IT IS POLITE TO KNOCK

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 08: Threads
> 
> Felt very Hildy to me. Tagged with the SI thing coz the whole veins thing rang very cutting adjacent so...better safe than sorry.
> 
> Referencing MAG81: A Guest for Mister Spider because that episode has some good imagery in it, for a haunted children's book lmao.
> 
> You just...ignore things until they become an issue, huh?

The spider lays its trap in a patient and careful way. And as the fly wanders into its parlor, it reaches down and encases her in a cocoon of silk and shame.

"Foolish _foolish_ creature," it sings as it works. " _Why_ would you walk inside? You _know_ I live here. You _know_ that I am hungry."

If the fly—bluebottle blonde, spunky and sharp, with clever arms and legs and a blinking firefly friend—could talk, she would reply, "Because I thought if I was clever enough, you wouldn't catch me and I could lure someone powerful close enough to destroy you and your home." _But she cannot_ , and the spider spins happily, readying her for its meal.

"But you _didn't_ ," it notes, conversationally, "you simply are my meal. Foolish _foolish_ fly. I look forward to eating you."

And the fly cannot respond, so the spider goes back to work. Goes back to waiting on another guest.

* * *

Hildy lays unmade, her spirit unspooling out her wrists, being fed into the moviola flickering ominously in the center of the room. She watches, unable to lift her limbs, paralyzed by the power of this thing that only Stud knows the name of, while everyone around her dies.

And she can only watch—a puppet for something she cannot name, fury made mortal—as it worms it's way into her veins.

But if she escapes, she _will_ turn the tables on this thing. Fool her once, shame on her. Fool her twice? _Un- **fucking** -likely_.

(And as she settles down in her new home in the new world she's found herself in post-Oakridge, she does her best to ignore the feeling of cobwebs beneath her skin. She escaped. Better to just leave it at that.)


End file.
